The Weight of the World
by reflect.clouds
Summary: An alternative 7th book, instead of Deathly Hallows. The earth has been plunged into war between muggles and wizards, into a dark age where the children of some of the greatest generals grow up. Bad summary, but please read! DracoxHermione.


**This is a story I started before Deathly Hallows, and is an alternative ending. It got abandoned for a few months, and I've finally got round to posting it. This story is dedicated to my friend Karachi, my editor for the first two chapters. Please review, as it will help me decide whether to continue or not. Thank you all - reflect.clouds x x**

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Dark. The skies were always dark now, filled with the swirling clouds of battle. Underneath the ominous sky laid the once great cities built by muggles and wizards alike. These cities now lay in pieces, the fragmented columns stretching to the sky as signs of the fate that had overtaken the earth. They say ignorance is bliss. It had been.

The war with Voldemort had lasted for three years, each year worse than the last. Families were ripped apart, whole towns brutally murdered and thousands of innocent lives were lost. But the tragedy of the Wizarding War was just a glimpse of the horrors to come.

On the summer of Harry Potter's twentieth birthday, one of the generals went to the English government and told them everything. The man clung to the hope that they would help their cause. His trust was misplaced. Two weeks later the UN declared international war on the wizarding world, in what they called a defence against 'devilry and evil'. Voldemort's war was quickly made into a truce as the wizards prepared themselves for the onslaught of muggles. The world was thrown into the greatest bloodbath every known, as spells and potions came up against nuclear bombs and guns, in what later historians would call the Massacre of the 20th Century.

While the war raged, the wizards retreated to the only safe place they could find: the valley that had once held Hogwarts. The housing was shabby and the living standard was poor; all were equal while the war raged on. And it was in this world, the war-torn and ravaged earth that the children of the greatest Generals in the war were brought up.

Draco Malfoy looked at his daughter through tired eyes. The eight-year-old child read to him from a book that was far bigger than her own petite figure. She had inherited her father's looks: silky white-blonde hair, pale, sharp-boned face . Her eyes were huge and cloudy grey, innocent, stubborn and intelligent. Annaliese Malfoy was his only daughter, and his entire life.

Her mother, Pansy Malfoy, was her greatest carer. In all of her eight years of life, Annaliese had never seen her father for more than two weeks at a time. Draco was a general, and one of the war's most celebrated heroes. And the most hated.

Little Annaliese possessed all the infuriating qualities of the Malfoy gene. She was already proud, wilful and headstrong, with a fiery temper and a vengeful spirit. However, unlike her grandfather, she held the better qualities of loyalty, compassion and love. Draco would have loved to give her all she desired, to give her the lifestyle he had had and never deserved, to give his daughter the world as her oyster. But the war had left the Malfoy family bereft of everything but their name, and in any case, the only housing was the prefabs, built in haste before the war to house the defenceless.

"…And he walked off into the sunset. The end," she said triumphantly. "There father, I told you I could read novels!" She looked up at him, her eyes searching for his approval.

"Excellent, Annaliese," he told her, stroking her silky hair. "You're learning well, just as a Malfoy should. Next time I return, I expect you to be able to read extenisve historical books. And improve your vocabulary."  
"Yes father," Annaliese replied with a slight sigh. "May I _please_ go out and play now?" Draco looked at her and felt reluctance tug at his heart.

Instead he replied, "If you must. You must return within half an hour, and do not talk to anyone! Is that clear?"  
"Yes father," Annaliese answered quickly and left the room, a hint of a skip in her step. Draco's child, his baby, his angel was leaving safety to play in danger's lair. He thought of calling her back, but couldn't bring himself to lock her indoors. _Oh __Annaliese_

Annaliese started skipping the moment she left her father's sight. She longed for these moments, the few short times she spent outside under the sky, out in the wind and the trees, where nature took over. Once she left her house she ran, all the way through the trees to the field where the forest stopped and she could see the sky, with all its greys and blacks and the wild flashes of lightning. From there she could see the mountains, towering over the forest like ancient kings. Her mother had told her that they had been there since the beginning of time, watching over us and taking lives from those less worthy. They terrified and fascinated her, and she had once made a promise to climb those mountains and look over at the other side, to see what there was beyond the dark forest and the looming mountains. A call to the left of her brought her back to her senses.

"Hey!"

The call came from a thin boy, tall pale. His bright red hair and emerald green eyes stood out against the dark greens of the forest like beacons.

"Hey!" he called again.

"Hi," Annaliese answered happily, before remembering what her father had said about talking to strangers. The boy came over to her. He was taller than her, and she had to look up to stare into his brilliant green eyes.

"Sorry, it's just I've never seen anyone else out here before. Well, except my family. Who are you?" He asked looking her over curiously.

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," Annaliese told him reluctantly.

"I won't tell, honest," the boy replied.

"Well, as long as you _promise_. Otherwise I'll be in huge trouble."

"I promise," the boy told her impatiently. "What's your name then?"

"I'm Annaliese," she answered.

"That's an interesting name." He sat down in the grass, and so did she. "My sister's name is Anne-Marie, but Annaliese is more interesting."

"What's your name?" Annaliese asked.

"Callum. It's a bit boring, I know, but it was my uncle's name apparently. I never met him obviously, because of the war and all."

"What war?" Annaliese's eyes were completely innocent. Callum couldn't believe it. She really, honestly didn't know.

"You must know!" He said in amazement. "The war that's been going on since before me and you were born? The reason no one ever sees their relatives any more?" As she shook her head, he blinked in shock. Deciding to try and explain, he asked, "Don't you ever wonder why the sky looks like that? Why sometimes people leave here and never come back? Why everyone lives in rubbish housing, and no one is rich, everyone is poor? It's because of a huge, world-wide war that started years and years ago. Between us and the muggles. That's why we all live here, and no one ever sees anyone else, and all the adults are so scared and tired all the time." Annaliese's eyes were wide, her mouth open in shock. This explained so much. She saw her father in a different light. So that was why she never saw him, why he was always so worried, why they never had anything nice to wear or to read or to play with. That was why the sky didn't look like it did in books, why she never saw any other children, why she'd never gone to school.

"Wow," she whispered at last. "Jeez. That explains a lot."

"How come you didn't know?" Callum asked.

"I guess...we never talked about it, and I don't think my Mum wanted me to know. Maybe she thought it'd make me unhappy." Callum looked at her thoughtfully.

"How old are you?" He asked.

"Eight and a three quarters," Annaliese replied proudly.

"I'm ten," he told her. "My sister's eight and she doesn't know. Dad said it was because she would be too young to understand. I thought you were older, otherwise I wouldn't have told you. Looking at you now, I should've realised. You're kind of short."

"I know," Annaliese sighed. Another lightening bolt crashed overhead, and both children looked up at the sky. They were the only spots of colour in that bleak landscape, the pale little girl in the oversized blue sweater and the tall boy with fiery hair and faded jeans. Annaliese pulled a heavy pocket watch from around her neck and sighed again. "I have to go home," she told Callum, "or my father will kill me. I'll be back here tomorrow though, if I can." With that she took off, bird-thin legs propelling her back towards the dark forest.

"Bye," Callum called with a grin as he turned and left too. When he got home, his mother was surprised to see him back so early.

"Did anything happen?" Ginny Potter asked him as she hugged her son.

"I made a friend," he replied with a smile.

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She was there the next day, just like she promised. She wore the same blue sweater as before, and a black band held her blonde hair from her face.

"Annaliese!" He called, and the little girl turned around and smiled.

"Hello again," she greeted him, "I promised I'd come back, and I did! It wasn't easy though. My father left this morning, and I had to see him off. But at least I wasn't late!"

"My Dad's gone already," Callum told her as they sat down. "He left about two months ago. He tries to come back whenever he can though. About a year ago, he was here for two whole months before he left. You get used to it, and Mum does a good job on her own."

"Same," Annaliese replied, "but my Father doesn't come back as long as yours does. The longest he came back was –" She thought back "- three weeks once, when I was seven. He was only here for a week this time."

"Do you miss him? I miss my Dad," Callum sighed. "I wish things were more like in stories, you know? I mean, I've only ever seen a couple of other children before, and you're the first one I've talked to."

"Me neither," Annaliese realised. "I've never seen someone my own age, except in books. I thought I was the only one here."

"Nah, I've got sisters and brothers, so I play with them," Callum told her. "Except now my oldest brother, James, is sixteen, he goes off with Dad."

"It must be fun, playing with other kids," Annaliese sighed wistfully. "Who are your other siblings?"

"There's James, who I've told you about. He's named after my grandpa, like my oldest sister Lily's named after my grandma. Lily's fifteen. Then there's Molly, she's thirteen, and named for my other grandma. She was going to be a twin, and he was going to be called Arthur, but he died when he was born. So they had me instead. I think they picked my name at random, to be honest. Then there's Sirius, who's named after Dad' godfather. He's six. Anne-Marie's two, and I think she was a 'mistake', if you know what I mean. If you don't, ask your Mum." Annaliese made a mental note to ask her mum what that meant, then said:

"You have a big family. Where are they now?"

"Well, James is with Dad, like I said. Lily looks after my Uncle Ron's daughter for him. Her name's Hermione. Apparently when Uncle Ron was fifteen or sixteen, he was in love with a girl called Hermione, who was him and my Dad's best friend. But she died. Anyway, Molly is looking after Sirius and Anne-Marie while my Mum is out defending The Edge. You know, like a lookout."

"What's 'The Edge'?"Annaliese asked. She was intrigued by this boy who knew so much more than her, who was so world-wise. Only now did she begin to see just how ignorant she was. In answer to her question, Callum pointed up at the edge of the mountains that towered over them, surrounding the valley.

"See the top of those mountains? That's The Edge. It's where you leave the Refuge - that's where we are, this valley - and cross over into the battlefield. Every now and then, some muggles try to cross through to hear so they can blow us up or something. My Mum stops them." Callum looked incredibly proud as he said this. Annaliese was merely amazed.

"So, if you reached the top of those mountains, you'd see over the whole war? Everything? All just over the top of those mountains?"

"Well, pretty much. The world's a big place, you know. Way, way bigger than this valley here. But those mountains are huge. I bet you'd see a lot."

"I want to see it," Annaliese told him firmly. "I want to go up there."

"I bet you do," Callum replied. "I would, if I didn't know what I did. But you don't know what it's like. You'll get hurt."

"No, I wouldn't!" Annaliese stated adamantly. "I'd just go up and look. No one would see me." Callum laughed.

"You've got nerve, for such a small kid. But you're being stupid. It would take days to climb that mountain. It takes my Mum two hours on a broom! I think your Mum would notice if you went missing for days. And what if you did get seen? What if you came out too far and got shot or something? It's not worth it, trust me."

"Have you been up there?" Annaliese asked curiously. He looked at her thoughtfully.

"Yeah," Callum replied. "Once."

"What was it like?" Annaliese's eyes were wide, begging for information. Callum sighed and ran his hand through his messy red hair.

"Well, my Mum took me once. It was a while ago, when I was just nine. I went right to the top, behind her on her broom. That was amazing. You won't understand until you've been on a broom really high in the air, going super fast. It's...breathtaking. Anyway, we got to the top and went up the watchtower my Mum's stationed on. Then I saw it." He sighed again. "It was awful. The ground was just...ruined. We could see for miles, towering over it all. All the remains of houses burnt and demolished. From where we were, we couldn't see any bodies. They just looked like black dots on the ground. Everything was all messed up."

"Whoa," Annaliese whispered. "Weird. I suppose...I always thought that beyond the mountains there was something better. You know, something more like in books, how life should be."

"You were wrong, kid," Callum replied. "It's worse out there, believe me. Thing is, we can't change it, see. Because we're still kids, and when we're older we'll got off and the fighting will just carry on."

"Why though?" Annaliese asked in confusion. "Why can't everyone just say, 'I don't want to fight anymore', and leave it at that? I bet muggles got kids too, just like us, sitting down somewhere and saying the same thing."

"Don't ask me," Callum answered, eyes fixed on the mountains. "It's an adult thing, I guess. Maybe they don't know how."

"When I'm older, I'll fix it," the little girl told him firmly. "I will, I promise. There'll be no more fighting, and kids like us will have friends and play in the sun like in books. That's what I'm going to do." Callum smiled.

"You can try, kid, but it won't work. Sometime's it's too much for one person. You're up against the world there."

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